The Magnificent Seven- Magnificent Matinee Entertainment

I disliked John Sturges' 'The Magnificent Seven' with a passion.

Not only because the film was a typically measly remake of a timeless cinematic milestone; in this case, it was Akira Kurosawa's mammoth masterpiece 'Seven Samurai' (one of the greatest epics ever filmed, in my opinion) watered down to a star-studded yet utterly predictable shoot-em-up western actioner that had none of the complexity, well-etched characterisation or even the thundering action of the original. It is also because Sturges, the man who made one of the most effortlessly thrilling action classics of all time with 'The Great Escape', simply did not make anything out of that crackling premise or that cast of fine actors and only ended up making a middling film that is terribly bland and unfairly hailed as a classic by cinephiles.

Does that mean that I would enjoy a remake of the same film, done with a different template and some more tweaks to the elements of the original?

Hell, yeah.

Antoine Fuqua's version is hardly the same tale. Closer in vein to both Kurosawa's classic as well as some of the darker westerns of the 60s and 70s, it is a film that breaks through the shackles to the original. Sure, it is about seven mercenaries for hire fending off a village but that's it. Fuqua's 'The Magnificent Seven' reinvents the same premise with reckless glee and loose invention, even as pushing for a meaner streak, and the result is a film that, while hardly serious or resonant, is nevertheless a whole lot of deliriously thrilling cinematic fun, the kind that best matinee entertainers are made of.

Western films had given up being whole-heartedly entertaining from the time the likes of Sergio Leone and Sam Peckinpah started exploring the rougher edges of their cowboy characters and the likes of Clint Eastwood, Kevin Costner and even  Quentin Tarantino followed suit, handing us tales of the Wild West that told more about the harsh truths of life on the frontier rather than giving us plenty of wisecracking standoffs to whistle and hoot at. Fuqua's film resists all these tropes and plays out like one of those swashbuckling gun-slinging romps, in which there is hefty hedonism in seeing hat-wearing, rugged cowboys reach for their cocked pistols ready to draw and fire. The pleasure of the film is genuinely enthralling but there is also enough room for a seriousness, a well-balanced storytelling sharpness that transcends its simplistic plot quite well.

'The Magnificent Seven' starts on a promising menace but a bit too awkwardly, as the director is too busy doffing his hat, all too obviously at films that have come before. There is a prelude that has shades of both Tarantino and Eastwood and as we see- in a refreshing twist- the eponymous bunch of the seven vigilantes hired by Haley Bennett's strong-willed widow Emma Cullen to reclaim a little outpost of a town from a devilish villain and his army, the film is mostly paying homage- not only to Sturges but also to the styles of George Roy Hill and Howard Hawks. There is enough gritty style in display, for sure- Mauro Fiore shoots both the sunbaked prairie grasslands and desolate, smoky and sleepy town saloons with an eye for detail- but the film sags in this point with the filmic tribute- referencing clumsily even one scene from 'The Revenant'- making us wait desperately for the moment when the guns actually start firing.

Oh, but when the guns actually start going boom boom, it is here when Fuqua lets it rip and this is when 'The Magnificent Seven' becomes really its own fast and furious beast in the vein of Leone's giddily action-packed 'A Fistful Of Dynamite' or, even better, Sam Peckinpah given a gorgeously healthy dash of blockbuster, big-screen thrills.

The dusty, sweltering standoffs, for instance, are modelled beautifully on any one of the classic, unforgettable duels from both 'The Good, The Bad And The Ugly' and, in its somewhat sobering climax, 'Once Upon A Time In the West'. And yet, Fuqua adds his own brutal zing to these moments; one of the seven, a lumbering, aging wizened tracker, leaps literally like a ravenous bear on his charging opponents. The big, bustling and dirty battle in the end packs in the kind of hyper-kinetic fire and fury that comes admirably close to the wallop of Kurosawa's roaring thrills and spills. That relentless barrage of bullets and bodies has an unhinged, Peckinpah-style punch to them- at one point, even a gigantic Gatling Gun is brought in to decimate an entire outpost to smithereens.

The narrative- by Nic Pizzolatto and Richard Wenk- sticks mostly to the decided 'shoot-them-up' template but also makes room for some sophistication in between the old-school action and camaraderie. What makes this version work in many ways is the creative licence taken with the plot. The arch nemesis of the original- Eli Wallach's primitive Mexican bandit Calvera- is here replaced by the devious capitalist Bartholomew Bogue, played by a convincingly snarling Peter Saarsgard. The central conflict here is that of besieged townfolk resisting destructive progress, of an older world defying the advances of a new era. Even the ragtag team of saviours is not an all-American bunch of outlaws. Sam Chisolm, the unquestioned leader of the outfit, is a descendant of slavery and so is the knife-throwing mercenary of this version. There is also a Comanche warrior in the fray and there is also a Confederate veteran who is still haunted by the deaths that he has witnessed. The sheer breakneck pace of the film does skimp on developing each of these fully but each of these tweaks adds welcome unconventional grit to a standard Western action premise.

Also, Fuqua has a grand time with his cast. The original picked out top listers and ended up making only a few of them truly memorable (Yul Brynner and Charles Bronson got most of the moments). But this version has ace actors Denzel Washington as a charismatic yet cold-blooded Chisolm, Ethan Hawke as the torn Goodnight Robicheaux and Vincent D'Onofrio as an authentically world-weary yet warm Jack Horne sharing the space with intriguing newbies- of which special mention should go to Chris Pratt's Josh Faraday for nailing devilish mischief with the spirit of a true hero.

'The Magnificent Seven' is bare-bones action filmmaking at its most effective. Fuqua, who has struggled a lot with films trying too hard to impress, plays it cool here and ends up delivering matinee entertainment of the highest order. It is like a glorious, old-school J. Lee Thompson romp done with unexpected grittiness and its main character's name also rhymes with a John Wayne classic of yore. All it needed, sorely, was a searing Ennio Morricone score. 

My Rating- 3 and a half stars out of 5.

Network- 40 Years Of Being Mad As Hell

They say that the television is a box for idiots.

According to Sidney Lumet and writer Paddy Chayefsky, the television is a scam for us idiots run by a crew of utter rascals.

'Network', a film 40 years old, took us all behind the scenes of the chaos on the television screen and exposed these rascals, as they went on make a giant farce of a failed, faded TV news anchor and his rambling rants against life and money and turned it into a best-selling TV show that soon erupted beyond control for all of them. The situation is one of sheer incredulity, delivered with scorchingly hilarious satire and armed with barn-storming politics. But that is missing the point of it all.

The point is that, even as the political situation has changed, 'Network' still feels brilliantly relevant today.

TV news legend Howard Beale is going through the wringer. He has lost his once sizeable audience share, his wife and has turned into a depressed drinker, when one day the UBS network decides to fire him. The suitably sober narration in the beginning presents to us the facts with all the briskness of a news anchor and then, unexpectedly, ends with 'The two friends got properly pissed', smashing at that moment every shred of seriousness and dipping the narrative in the pool of pitch-black comedy with fascinating irreverence. Classic.

On one of his routine broadcasts, he turns quietly berserk and announces to kill himself in the coming week. Suddenly, all hell breaks loose, the headhonchos in the network get cranky and then again the horrible truth dawns on them all- this defeated man's rants and ramblings will sell like hotcakes to the millions of Americans hooked to their tube screens in their homes.

It would be grossly criminal to reveal what happens next. Lumet takes us on a thrilling, giddily enthralling cinematic trip through the world of broadcasting and boardroom politics- infusing his meticulous, documentary-style attention to detail with trademark flashes of Chayefsky's ironic, politically astute mirth- programmers chat and flirt while Beale sets television screens on fire and the top brass makes their own devilish moves with seething malice, all moving in to make a killing from this new sensation. And somewhere, in the backdrop, a country is going crazy too, disillusioned after Watergate, trapped in Middle Eastern politics and flooded with angry communists all around. At one point, the TV network even plans a show called the Mao Tse-Tung Hour. 

And then comes the film's searing highpoint- a rainy night when Beale unleashes a torrent of anger at the way the world is and what should be done about it. It is a scene of nerve-shattering tension and drama- a moment that needs to be seen to be believed, as the network sharks get startled and ecstatic at the rabble being roused and the audience- that is us all- getting stirred from our chairs into pointless perversity. A moment, a monologue that is to be treasured.

Actually, scratch that. This is not just a moment to be seen to be believed- even as Lumet's urban, unglamorous aesthetic is at its most exciting here. It is also a suitably epic monologue that needs to be listened as well. Chayefsky's writing turns beautifully elaborate at this juncture and this, along with the many stirring and simmering monologues and charged exchanges, is one that bursts with passionate anger and hefty political insight. Everything is taken a dig at- from Arab sheikhs holding American oil companies at ransom to a general escalation of crime and moral decay as well as the firebrand communism of the era. And all of these come with both verbal  urgency and sparkling wit into the screenplay. It's blazing, stunning writing, with enough room for clever exchanges and cheeky sexual innuendo, and somewhere towards the end, there is also a superbly phrased and witty speech in favour of consumerism and capitalism, delivered by none other than the brilliant Ned Beatty playing stern-faced CCA chairman Arthur Jensen who is hired to throw some sense into Beale. Do me a favour: if you have to watch 'Network', make sure you turn up the speakers and watch it with subtitles.

The sheer relentless fury of the verbal fireworks may be, at times, brutal but the lack of subtlety and the unhinged anarchy of these moments are what hammer home 'Network's arguments with fascinating effect. Also, Lumet's usually gritty and grubby visual style is here traded for a sleek, edgy aesthetic that helps to capture all the brainy banter with nuance and poetic perspective, thanks to Owen Roizman's linear, almost Kubrick-like cinematography. When Beale is babbling, like a shaman, in front of entranced crowds, the camera does not fail to focus on the nervous, fervent gaffs and recording technicians ducking in front of the bulky cameras recording every word and move. When he hears Jensen's soiloquy on how companies are the new countries, the perspective is distant, as if following the bewildered gaze of Beale himself. And there is a stunningly operatic scene in which suitably roused TV viewers head to their balconies and fire escape windows to chant the film's most iconic rant against unfairness in the world.

The actors are all phenomenal.

Peter Finch, playing a disgruntled and equally befuddled Beale, is in fine form, especially during the standout sequences when he takes command of the screen and lets loose his anger and predicament. However, beyond his persona of a modern-day prophet of doom, there is curiously little that the actor brings to the table. He shines in one fabulous scene when describing his visions as some sort of magical mysticism but the actor is not really the best thing about the film, in which each performer seems to be outdoing the other. Still, there is something creepy about the way he succumbs to insanity with devastating menace.

Faye Dunaway's programming head Diana Christensen, looking perfectly gorgeous, even when spanking her colleagues verbally, turns into the film's femme fatale- a cold-hearted corporate vamp who is only thrilled, aroused and bothered by TV ratings and audience share figures. She is a character for ages- the way she climaxes on bed while gabbing on relentlessly about how her planned shows can make her big is simply as enthralling as her sizing up her colleagues and even convincing firebrand radicals to show up live for her TV shows. Seductive, slithery and effortlessly slick, she is just outstanding.

Robert Duvall is fascinatingly creepy as CCA executive Frank Hackett, who lashes everyone around in anger but also confesses, in one snappy moment, that the company is no more just a network but a whorehouse. 

The entire film, however, is stolen completely by William Holden as Max Schumacher, the helplessly non-plussed news division president who cannot help but chafe at the entire charade, utterly disgusted with the way Beale is exploited and falling prey to the same demons of failure and disgrace. World-weary and defeated by the scheming rascals around him, Schumacher also has the film's most compelling arc- the way he falls inevitably for Christensen, in a brief affair, makes him equally as vulnerable as others around him and far from being a hero. At the same time, Holden is most smashing, when at one juncture, he lets Beale speak about life being bullshit, precisely so as to let off his own steam at the sudden changes happening around him. It is a classic performance that endures.

'Network' is also one for the ages. It is a film which stuns on so many levels- as a brilliant satire packed in with gutsy political commentary, as a darkly unsettling psychological thriller exposing the demons of defeat and disillusionment and, above all, a solid argument against the evils of the television and the people who run the game. 

My Definition Of A Great Film

It is high time since I have come up with a definition of a truly great film. Not merely a good film, because it is very easy to find a film merely good but great films are really tough to find. Finding a bad film is equally a cakewalk for me. 

Often, when people recommend me a film to watch, or gush with praise about some film or the other, I am at a loss to explain why I did not find the same to be as good as it has been said about the same. Then comes the inevitable question- what is really a great film in my opinion? To be frank, it is hard to say, actually. 

To begin with, let us consider some hard facts. Both Bollywood and Hollywood produce a thousand films every year each and only a small fraction of them are really watchable, to say the least. And then, as much as new films and new directors are coming to my attention, there is still a wealth of older films and veteran directors to catch up with, to explore. Imagine my embarrassing ignorance at admitting that I still need to watch 'Rear Window', or the entire John Ford catalogue, or films of Buster Keaton, Robert Altman and even most of Sidney Lumet. There is so much to rediscover too- I hated '2001- A Space Odyssey' in my first time but still need to re-watch it in a better mood to appreciate it fully. Similarly, I am yet to discover the treasures of Raj Kapoor, V. Shantaram, Guru Dutt or any of the arthouse legends of the 1970s and 80s, even as I marvel at what some of the recent directors are doing in Bollywood.

Also, it is never really easy to single out great films in one go because no matter how hard you try, you will always find that there are always some films that you missed out, or did not watch it properly then or something like that. A few months back, I had come up with a similar line-up of my ten favourite Hollywood films and while I rejoiced at my unusual choices, I get often perturbed at thinking how many films did I miss. 'North By Northwest', 'Citizen Kane', 'Casablanca', 'Vertigo', 'Lawrence Of Arabia', 'Dirty Harry', 'The Godfather' and its superlative sequel, 'Jaws', 'Raging Bull', 'The Shining', 'Back To The Future', 'The Shawshank Redemption', 'Star Wars' and so many more….And similarly, it is equally hard to mention good Bollywood films without discovering or mentioning some of the evergreen classics that still endure today. Imagine a Best of Bollywood list that may have 'Gangs Of Wasseypur' but no 'Satya', a 'Junoon' but no 'Omkara', a 'Johnny Gaddar' but no 'Jewel Thief', a 'Deewar' but no 'Parinda'.

But to answer that question, well let's turn to genres. People- loved ones and friends- believe that I am usually biased towards only particular genres. There is not even a shred of truth in that. Take Bollywood movies, for instance. For long, it was thought that I hated romances and only loved the edgier, more unconventional films that recent Bollywood filmmakers have doled out. That holds true, even today; at any given time, I would watch 'Kaminey' over 'Love Aaj Kal' or choose 'Ardh Satya' over 'Kabhie Kabhie'. But that does not mean that I hate love stories. For the record, 'Dilwale Dulhania Le Jaayenge' is, in my opinion, one of the finest creations of Bollywood- a soaring romantic ballad that invented all the rules of modern-day romance and still remained, on its own, a classic, evergreen tale of love against all sorts of odds. 'Silsila' is, in my opinion, the finest film in Yash Chopra's filmography (second to 'Deewar' though) and 'Jab We Met' is that rare example of a romantic comedy done superbly. And I also have a grudging admiration for some of the other films that our newbie directors have rolled out. 

All these are films which I have loved for their gushing romantic qualities. So, as one can see, I have absolutely nothing against romances.

Let's come to Hollywood. When a friend recommends me the 'Fast And The Furious' franchise, I stay away and refuse to commit to anything. I would also announce, additionally, that I would rather watch 'Taxi Driver' or '12 Angry Men' or even 'The Godfather' instead of any such silly and loud action film. And I can almost hear their sighs of being let down. And yet, I absolutely adore action films. 'Raiders Of The Lost Ark' ranks as one of my all-time favourite films and I have a tender, mushy soft corner for films like 'Lethal Weapon', 'Terminator 2: Judgment Day', 'North By Northwest', 'The Road Warrior' and even 'Die Hard' or those deliciously dumb Sylvester Stallone starrers as well. 

And people also believe that I have something against sentimental films. That might be why I was not at all impressed by 'Titanic'. But if I did have anything against sentimental films, I would have been a bigger Kubrick fan rather than  a Spielberg fan. Then I would never have loved films like 'The Elephant Man' or 'Schindler's List' in the first place.

So, if I am really so fair in my choices of genres and films, why then do I make a fuss? Why is it so damn hard for me to give away generous praise to most films? Why am I so stingy with star ratings and reviews and why will I consciously avoid most films and end up going for those which come out completely out of the blue? Why did I not love 'Bajrangi Bhaijaan', a film which was loved by everyone else? Why did I not name 'Citizen Kane' or 'Vertigo' as my all-time favourite film and instead picked out 'Mulholland Dr.'? Why was there not a single Christopher Nolan film in my list? I have had passionate arguments with people on Quora about why 'Batman V Superman' is not even worth some retrospective praise. I absolutely refuse to watch its Ultimate Edition and I get called as being biased towards Marvel films for the same reason. I hate 'Shatranj Ke Khiladi' despite its cult status and love 'Sholay' despite its formulaic elements. Why all this confusion?

When I am committing myself- or my mind and my senses- to a film which runs for, say, 2 or 3 hours, I am taking a big risk. I have nothing against something that would entertain me. For that matter, I have absolutely loved knockout entertainers, time and again- I am one of the very few people who enjoyed 'Tashan'. I have nothing against a solid entertainer that can keep me thrilled, amused, dazzled and blown away at the end of it all. If I did, I would not enjoy films by arch entertainers like Quentin Tarantino, Charles Chaplin or even vintage Spielberg and Robert Zemeckis. Sure, I also love unconventional films. But they need not to be totally bereft of humor or wit to be unconventional. 

In fact, there are so many dead serious films that I refuse to watch, or which I can't even fall in love with. I don't even pretend to have an interest in European cinema, which, by default, turns out to be more serious-minded than Hollywood or British films. I have not even touched Truffaut, Renoir, Tarkovsky, Herzog or any of these other directors; I am way more comfortable with Martin Scorsese, David Lynch, Alfred Hitchcock, Spielberg, Francis Ford Coppola and Stanley Kubrick. Okay, shoot me.  

At the same time, I can easily choose Christopher Nolan over David Fincher or Paul Thomas Anderson over The Coen Brothers. It is a matter of a blend of both bias towards some particular filmmakers who have thrilled me time and again and a general tendency to prefer the unconventional, to like edgier cinema over what is merely predictable or dull. For me, edgy, irresistible cinema is not about being realistic or serious. It can be an action film, a no-brainer fantasy or even a science fiction 

In Bollywood, my favourites have always been the kind of cinema that pushes the boundaries of filmmaking and elevates the general Hindi film scenario into something substantial rather than just, as the cliches would say, charades of song and dance. That does not mean, however, that I have anything against formula. Formula, when done well, especially by masters like Yash Chopra or Prakash Mehra, or even Rajkumar Hirani and Kabir Khan, can make for great cinema in my opinion. However, if you ask me to appreciate a 70s caper-style film like 'Once Upon A Time In Mumbai' or an ode-to-Bollywood yarn like 'Om Shanti Om', well I will say that these are predictable and dull because their respective makers stuffed these films only with pointless worship of these cinematic eras and no personality of their own. In that case, I would choose 'Bombay Velvet' and 'Rangeela' because they work great as individual achievements.

I have equal love for all my favourite Bollywood directors. I have loved Yash Chopra and Gulzar equally, I have loved Shyam Benegal and Hrishikesh Mukherjee equally, I have loved Raj Kapoor and Manmohan Desai equally, I have also loved Anurag Kashyap, Vishal Bhardwaj and Sriram Raghavan as much as I have loved Dibakar Banerjee, Habib Faisal, Imtiaz Ali and Rajkumar Hirani and the like. I have also loved both Ram Gopal Varma and Vidhu Vinod Chopra. For me, it will always be 'Dev D' over Sanjay Leela Bhansali's 'Devdas' or 'Udaan' over '3 Idiots', or even 'Lootera' over 'Aashiqui 2' or something like that. But even a smashingly simple film, like 'Golmaal' or 'Choti Si Baat' or 'Rocket Singh- Salesman Of The Year' can be effective as well. I think of sparkling comedies like 'Andaaz Apna Apna' and 'Jaane Bhi Do Yaaron' as seminal as any film of the arthouse movement. 

So, what is a great film for me? It has to be something exciting, something lively, edgy, entertaining and enlightening all at the same time. It does not have to be dead serious or utterly realistic, for that would rob off all the fun of watching it; it would be better to watch a documentary then. At the same time, it should not be totally predictable as well. It should be an entertaining mix of something crazy, something comic, something scary, something sensitive, something hilarious, something heart-breaking at the same time. 

P.S- I hope that this lengthy write-up will explain some of my recent behaviour with some of the films this year. In particular, this write-up may prove to be a solid defense against some allegations that I was biased in my reviews of 'Fan' and 'Sultan' respectively. The Shah Rukh Khan starrer got a glowing review from me while the Salman Khan blockbuster had me commenting that it was way too long and predictable. It should be noted that I know for sure that Salman can act- I love his performances in 'Maine Pyaar Kiya', 'Andaaz Apna Apna' and 'Ek Tha Tiger'- but it is just that I find Shah Rukh to be criminally under-rated as an actor, the same way Tom Cruise is even despite films like 'The Colour Of Money', 'Born On The Fourth Of July', 'Jerry Maguire' and, most memorably, 'Magnolia'. I would advise people to just get over my preferences for either of the screen gods and tell me honestly which film is more unpredictable than the other. I rest my case.

Finding Dory- Frenetic, Funny And Fabulous

'Finding Nemo' was never particularly a great film. 

Sure, it was a ball of a time, bolstered with snappy comic timing and beautifully rendered underwater vistas that immersed the viewers into the colorful world of fins, kelp and coral reefs, even as its main gist- an old as the hills tale of a father looking for his son- was made even more cliched by its biggest misfire- the villain of the piece turned out to be, in a flash of crude misogyny, a toothy horror of a girl who loved to torture pets. The cast is great, so are the comic inteludes- especially the quarelling crabs as well as those ever-hungry gulls- but the rest was purely for kids, especially when compared with how much Pixar has pushed the envelope itself with other, more compelling outings.

And it is therefore a pleasant surprise how smart 'Finding Dory' turns out to be.

Andrew Stanton, who directed and co-wrote the original, takes the most fabulously cool character of that film and spins a heady, giddily thrilling tale around the same; the result is a film that is very loosely a sequel and much more of a smart-mouthed, hyperkinetic beast of wit and heart. It is rare to see a sequel overshadowing the original by leaps and bounds and hitherto Pixar had a mostly patchy run with follow-ups. Both 'Cars 2' and 'Monsters University' were not even a patch on their brilliant originals because of being stuffed with the same hangup of trying too hard to match the same wit; 'Finding Dory' succeeds, mostly, because it defys expectations and breaks free from the mould of being conventional.

Everyone will agree that it was Dory, the delightfully clumsy blue tang who has a serious short-term memory problem that lands her into trouble. Voiced with endearing relish by Ellen DeGeneres, Dory is here trying to find her parents, whom she lost in a freak accident in childhood. While that might seem like an utterly predictable trope (already done to death in the underwhelming 'Kung Fu Panda 3' this year), trust Stanton, co-writer Victoria Strouse and the fabulous cast and crew to turn even the most predictable premise into a genuinely rollicking adventure that has real stakes and genuine warmth without ever trying too hard.

So, we see Dory and company, including a reluctant Marlin (Albert Brooks) and a sprightly Nemo (Hayden Rolence), shuttle from Australia's stunning reefs to California's urbanized coast and all this still feels a bit familiar until, out of the blue, we hear Sigourney Weaver's velvety voice in an announcement speaker and the film really begins to fly.

What one will notice is how 'Finding Dory' will present none of the pleasant oceanic backdrops or conventionally entertaining tropes and elements that the original film did. Sure, the world under the sea level does look as gorgeously rendered as expected and there are some wonderful nuances to look out for as well- that wonderfully warm Mr. Ray is here taking Nemo and other schoolkids on a field trip down below, while crabs scavenge and sleep amidst discarded human junk- but the action takes place mostly, single-mindedly, in Dory's peril-packed quest for her family and this gives the opportunity to bring both sharp intelligence and witty repartee into the adventure. 

The Pixar outings are fondly lauded for their impressive wealth of wonderful, whimsical and enthralling characters and Stanton and Strouse cram in them in spades for this film and lets them exchange wisecrack after wisecrack while never letting the pace flag. The deliciously charming new additions include short-sighted whale shark Destiny (who can't help but bump into the walls of her conservatory), the mild-mannered beluga whale Bailey (who has forgotten how to echo-locate), a pair of mischieviously clever sea lions, and above all the seven-tentacled red octopus Hank, voiced with grouchy warmth by Ed O'Neill, who does not want to go back into the ocean. 

And the film uses all of them in marvelously comic and action-packed ways, as the frenetic narrative flies with a brisk yet bouncy pace that is more equivalent to the breakneck 'Toy Story' films rather than just a standard-issue animated film premise. At times, the film's breathless action seems to be a replay of the greatest hits of that classic franchise; a scene with multiple pairs of children's fists echoes a moment of frenzy from 'Toy Story 3' and the deliriously thrilling climax is pretty much a similar one in 'Toy Story 2' but the film also tweaks on those references and invents its own hilarious quirks. 

Hank, for instance, can transform into anything possible- from a poster of a cat on a wall, to even a little baby in a pram. Meanwhile, both Bailey and Destiny come off as awfully handy in aiding Dory in her quest- especially Bailey, who promises, in one soaring moment, to be the 'most powerful pair of glasses' for Destiny.

Meanwhile, there are some quirks that will merely hit you on the nose to make you roll down the aisles and even all of them are refreshingly smart and never overwhelm the proceedings. The afore-mentioned sea lions, voiced with ribald energy by Idris Elba and Dominic West, get their own goofy moments in the sun and things turn positively cracking with a red-eyed common loon named Becky, as well as a whole bunch of otters who end up being more smart than their unbearably cute appearance would suggest.

'Finding Dory' plays the smart and fast script straightly enough but does make some room for a genre-pushing seriousness that was missing in the original film. There are subtle but sharply pointed digs made at the ironic nature of rehabilitation and how it would only end up trapping life and nature rather than liberating them fully. All of that is kept a bit too much in the backdrop, unlike George Miller's 'Happy Feet' (which remains as the gold standard, alongside Pixar's very own 'Up', for portraying the evils of the rape of nature) and the film settles a bit too conveniently for an all-happy ending, even as an emotionally wrenching scene, with a forest of kelp and seashells, cries out loud for more heartbreak. 

But even in the convenient perfection of the climax, there is a soaring joy, a genuine sense of feel-good wonder that is both rousing and enthralling. 'Finding Dory' is a whip-cracking and whistle-worthy entertainer that brings both wit and warmth to the table even as it firmly and determinedly pushes further the envelope. And it ends up being several notches above the usual animated film targeted squarely at knee-high kids. Is not that truly special enough? 

My Rating- 4 and a half stars out of 5.

Ten Great Horror Movies Other Than 'The Exorcist'

So you think that 'The Exorcist' is the greatest horror movie of all time. Think again. Here are ten great films that are as iconic and as brilliant as William Friedkin's classic. Be ready to be scared to your wits.

10- Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992)

Dir- David Lynch

When David Lynch decided to make a cinematic prequel to his sensational, ground-breaking TV series, few were actually ready for the heavy, sobering wallop of terror, incest, violence and insanity that he would unleash to give even the most seasoned fans of the series a jolting shock. 'Fire Walk With Me' is too bleak, even by Lynch standards; there is none of the surreal imagery or the sexual pyrotechnics at work here; instead, all we get is sheer, crazed horror of the central situation. 

At the heart of the plot is Sheryl Lee's devastating Laura Palmer, a girl struggling with cocaine, confused relationships and-above all- a creepy father, even as spirits are warning her of something else. Lynch lets loose a throbbing, pulse-pounding streak of horrifying scares that lend 'Fire Walk' with a real bloody gutso that most horror movies lack in. True, it is a bit insular- confined to the environs of the small-town explored in the series. But that is a minor niggle compared to the heart-breaking horror all around.

9- Cape Fear (1991)

Dir- Martin Scorsese

Scorsese has never been much into chills (except for 'Shutter Island') but even before that 2010 psychological mystery, he was willing to unveil his hidden, inner Hitchcock all too well. J. Lee Thompson's original yarn was a clash of wits between the righteous Bowden and the devilish Max Cady; what Marty does is add his own darker dystopian portrait of marriage, morals and relationships- the new Bowden (played with sly slickness by Nick Nolte) is a cocky philanderer and there is an unsettling new angle introduced by Juliette Lewis' teenage daughter observing the chaos. 

The real horror, however, comes from Robert De Niro's Max Cady himself- a blistering, foul-mouthed and deviously brutal avenger who justifies his own unforgivable evil with an obsessive conviction that could rattle you. To see him storm the scene, take on Bowden little by little, is what gives this version its real crackling fire. And the director unleashes his visual daredevilry in all these horrific moments, eventually going up to that hellish climax in the rough river rapids.

8- 28 Days Later (2002)

Dir- Danny Boyle

Between visually exotic adventures ('The Beach', '127 Hours') and grimy urban landscapes ('Trainspotting' and 'Slumdog Millionaire), Danny Boyle also finds time for blazingly intelligent cinema and this horror thriller set in a bleak, desolate London, is just the stuff of visceral film-making. Shot in mostly unfurnished digital format and bolstered with realistic, effects-free creature scares, this tale- of a zombie-infested city and survivors (including Cillian Murphy, Naomi Harris and Brendan Gleeson) scavenging for safety- is one that plunges the viewers right on the edge- to face the ravenous terror of the attackers from time to time. 

The creatures of Boyle's film are hungry, foaming beasts, both attacking in numbers and stealthily hidden in grimy corners. And yet, it is when Alex Garland's taut narrative takes the bunch to a military embattlement, that the real terror of the situation sinks in. It also transforms, beautifully, into a rare film of power, poignancy and that elusive thing- hope.

7- The Birds (1963)

Dir- Alfred Hitchcock

Magnifying the sheer crushing terror of that famous crop-duster from his endlessly entertaining 'North By Northwest' would have been a tall order. But Hitch did it nevertheless, getting a bunch of ravens, gulls and sparrows to go crazy and unleash a real hell of beating wings, devilish talons and blood-thirsty beaks as they take down pastoral Bodega Bay shortly after a new arrival in the town. Surprisingly, even for Hitchcock standards, 'The Birds' remains enigmatic and elusive. There is no clear warning, no actual reason behind the onslaught of these feathered fiends. 

Or maybe it has to do with the arrival of Tippi Hedren's icy blonde Melanie in the private life of the cocky Mitch (Rod Taylor) and how his possessive mother and ex-squeeze react to the same, in secretly fiendish ways. The subtext is as scorchingly intense as is the series of spectacular scares in offer- a house attacked and pecked at by a hundred talons, a fiery airborne view of Bodega Bay erupting into chaos, and finally, a murder of crows in the school playground, waiting to go berserk. 

6- The Omen (1976)

Dir- Richard Donner

40 years have come and gone and still Hollywood has to make yet another Satanic horror fest as supremely terrifying or richly subversive as Richard Donner's 1976 classic for ages. Essentially, it repeats the same theme of 'The Exorcist' but with a lethal twist- the child here is not stumbling on the ghosts of puberty but rather is an innocuous, sweet-looking toddler who may not be who actually is. 

One by one, the corpses pile up, all because of sudden and shocking circumstances. Matters reach a head only when the distraught father (an excellently world-weary Gregory Peck) decides to investigate it, only with more disturbing results. In between, meanwhile, Donner presents to us stealthily chilling moments of unexplained terror perpetrated by an evil force stronger than everything else. Jerry Goldsmith's excellently haunting score adds to the sinister menace all around.

5- Jaws (1975)

Dir- Steven Spielberg

As said before, 'Jaws' is a perfect machine- a well-oiled, functional horror film that hammers home not only startling, superbly mounted jump-scares and thrills but also genuine intelligence, sharp characterization and real, rousing drama. By this time, Steve had already demonstrated a mastery of visual and narrative craft ala Kubrick and Peter Benchley's novel ,about a Great White Shark preying on a New England beach, gave him meat as juicy as a bloody kill.

The suspense is terrific indeed and that shark is still a marvel of painstaking creature design and effects but it is when the leviathan is hidden out of sight that the real horror hits home. There are entire moments that can make you break out in a pespiration of spray and sweat. And as Steve steers the film towards darker territory- with Robert Shaw's delusional shark-hunter reaching his doom, it becomes even more elegiac and haunting.

4- The Thing (1982)

Dir- John  Carpenter

And you thought that 'Alien' was the ultimate monster movie. There is essentially nothing new in John Carpenter's claustrophobic shocker- it is about a ragtag team stranded in a hostile zone (in this case, the snowbound wastes of Antarctica), and a relentless enemy in their midst that stealthily, sneakily kills them all. It is essentially 'Alien' set on Earth's South Pole. Think again, for you may be mistaken.

The tension is unbearable, the chances of surival almost non-existent, the stakes are bloody and real and the screaming, gut-busting, gruesome and slimy horror, bolstered by Rob Bottin's effects, is upsetting and truly terrifying. 'The Thing' was a disaster in its day- blame it on 'E.T'- but today it is a masterwork of body horror and monster mayhem, and also a thriller of paranoia that is so devilishly nasty that it might have inspired Tarantino to make 'The Hateful Eight' in a similarly suspicious tenor. And Ennio Morricone's heart-thudding score is also the composer at his darkest and most devastating.

3- Psycho (1960)

Dir- Alfred Hitchcock

Instead of talking about the plot, its twists and turns, its big reveal and its unforgettable moments, let us talk about how 'Psycho' shaped the suspense thriller genre for once and for all. For here was a film that introduced to us the tropes of shifty females on the run, haunted places with their grim secrets, sympathetic sociopaths lurking in the corners, bloody murders and their bizarre truths and twists and turns that left the mind both shaken and stirred. 

In many ways, it was also reflective of the new social revolution of the decade, of skewed gender equations and a whole new cutting-edge to the thriller genre that brought both sophistication and style. But that is detracting from its sinful pleasures- and the fact that it is really, really creepy as hell. In short, Hitch not only invented the rules of the game. He also smashed them all with a knife, a running shower and frenzied screams. History was created by 'Psycho' and so was the future of edgy filmmaking.

2- Eraserhead (1977)

Dir- David Lynch

For David Lynch, the horror lies in not fancy concepts, in uncontrollable forces, or in creatures out of hidden spaces. Rather, horror, for him, lies in the unpredictable nature of life's worst nightmares coming true. While all his twisted, beautiful films deal with dreams gone sour and nightmares coming alive, none of them are quite as horrifying as 'Eraserhead'. This time, the nightmare is the world around Henry Spencer (Jack Nance), a helpless bloke whose hair could do with some trimming. It is an industrial, smoke-filled hellhole, cold and damp with decay and despair. 

Above it all, Spencer faces the ultimate nightmare of masculinity- becoming a father, without warning, to a creature who hardly looks like a baby. Yet that disgustingly ugly critter is the least terrifying thing here. Hope is nowhere in sight as Spencer starts losing everything that was once his- including sanity- and the crushing gloom of his environment soon takes its toll. Made on a stitched-together budget and crafted with a surreal nightmarish vibe that none can rival, this is Lynch's ultimate dystopian portrait of humanity collapsed by all its inner demons unleashed. What can be more horrific than that?

1- The Shining (1980)

Dir- Stanley Kubrick

Stephen King, the writer of the novel that inspired Stanley Kubrick's finest film, is highly dismissive about it. According to him, 'The Shining' has more ideas rather than emotions. It is ironic because the film itself is an emotional roller-coaster ride that makes us cringe in disgust, cower in fear and look desperately for some place to hide from the terror that is let loose. Stripped of all the director's usual mental masturbation, this is a film that delivers monumental, larger-than-life chills and spills with monumental artistry. 

It is also one of those rare films, next to anyone of Hitchcock's classics, that spends a good time of its narrative in building up a prelude to the horror that would follow in gruesome fashion in its heart-pounding lengthy climax. Yet, what makes 'The Shining' so supremely effective as a horror masterpiece is how its jaw-dropping grandeur (Kubrick and lensman John Alcott's breathless play of the Steadicam technique in their fervent runs around the desolate Overlook Hotel) conceals the writer-director's typically dystopian digs at family, relationships and the fragility of life in face of forces beyond their control. The mounting insanity and subsequent psychotic downfall of Jack Torrance (a spectacularly slimy Jack Nicholson) is less to do with evil spirits than with his own ghosts of failure, alcoholism, marital problems and battered masculinity. 

That does not mean that 'The Shining' does not explode with devilish evil. It's scares are every bit as seminal (an elevator disgorging gallons of blood), 

unbearable creepy (the hidden secret of Room 237), quietly devastating (the ghost of Mr. Grady in the men's room) and disturbingly freaked-out and frenetic ('Here's Johnny!'). And even with these unforgettable moments, it is also a terse, tense character study as well as a pitch-black comedy of the highest order. Can any other horror movie be as brilliant and profound as this?